Transported
by Divergent Dauntless Demitri
Summary: Darren finds himself in Old time London, where he finds young Larten Crepsley and his friend, Toby, working in a pie Shop on Fleet Street. Something is happening, and the pies are starting to taste...well, strange. Stranger than normal. Can Darren find out what's happening, and get back home, before it's too late?


**Disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney Todd, The Sage of Darren Shan, Or the Sage of Larten Crepsley. I know the dates are slightly off, but i had to change the to fit with the story. **

The brightest of lights hit my eyes, as i slowly blinked them open. Too too bright. They closed again within seconds, still burning with the pain from moments before; My mind was scattered as i tried to piece together what was happening.

The rushing of Water. A Cavern. Mr Crepsley. Mr Tiny. A Doorway. Then Blackness. That's all. Just Blackness.

I went through that list what seemed like a billion times, but that was all i could remember.

The rushing of Water. A Cavern. Mr Crepsley. Mr Tiny. A Doorway. Then Blackness.

That's it. Then the realisation hit me; Mr Crepsley, where was he? My eyes burst open, and i blinked a few times, this time willing myself to adjust to the light. After a while, It slowly began to dim, allowing me to take in my surroundings, only to reveal a dark, damp, empty street. It was narrow, barely allowing room for me as i sat up, and tried to figure out where exactly i was, and more importantly, where my mentor was.  
There was no sign of him as i stood up and hobbled down the path, my clothes filthy from the grime that now covered them after less than an hour of being here. The buildings around me were almost as black as the dusty smoke coming from the chimneys above them, as i now struggled to see through thick clouds of black mist that hung in the air. How the light had burned before was a mystery to me, as now there was basically none. Even with my half-vampire senses, it was difficult for me to make sense of the shapes around me. The loud chattering of peoples voices grew louder as I walked down the street, which eventually opened up into a slightly busier road. The sign on the wall across was me told me i was entering some place called "Fleet Street."The name sounded familiar, but i couldn't remember where from. I was no closer to finding Larten, and would get no where without any help, so instead of wandering around hopelessly, i Wandered over to the largest group of people i could see. Pushing my way through the crowd, I saw a young boy stood in front of what appeared to be a pie shop. "Ladies and Gentlemen, may i have your attention please!" He yelled a few times, "Best Pies in London are straight through that door!" It took me a moment to process the sentence. London. I was in London? What? The kid had to be wrong. This was nothing like London. Nothing at all, Unless...  
"Excuse me?" I turned to the person next to me. A woman, clad in a large, yet dark and scruffy dress. "What year is it?"  
"The Year? Why, are you mad, boy?" She cackled. "1804. Now off with ya before i have ya carted to the mad house."  
1804. The numbers rang in my ears. This couldn't be happening; Could not be happening. It was impossible. I tried to think back to my History lessons from school, or even back to what Mr Crepsley had taught me. That would mean it was the Georgian era-One of the king Georges were in control. I couldn't exactly remember which one, but it must have been either 3 or 4, judging by the fact Queen Victoria was soon to come into power. This also meant Britain was in the middle of the industrial revolution. I stopped. Industrial revolution. Wasn't that when Mr Crepsley was born? Sometime then, anyway. I tried to stop thinking about it, and brought my thoughts back to my main issue. "Larten?!" I mustered all my energy and tried to yell above the crowd, in hopes my mentor would be near by. It was a long shot, but it was the only plan I had. "LARTEN CREPSLEY?!"  
"Larten!" Oi, Larten! There's a lad out here calling your name." I turned my head back to the pie shop, to find the voice had come from the young boy that was yelling a few minutes before. A young boy, no older than ten, emerged from the Pie Shop before I had time to speak. He had short bright orange hair-unusual since hair die wouldn't be invented for at least another century. I stared at him, he seemed oddly familiar.  
"What D'you mean, Toby? Where?" He spoke, and the other kid-Toby-Pointed to me.  
"That 'en. Know him?"  
"No." He stepped towards me, his face screwed in confusion, and his voice not as confident as he probably would have liked it to be. "Who are you? How do you know me?"  
"Mr...Mr Crepsley?" I stuttered. "There must be some mistake, I'm looking for...Larten Crepsley?"  
"That's me." He looked me up and down, pausing for an extra second and staring at my fingertips. He gasped, obviously recognizing the scars on my hands, which I instantly hid behind my back. I looked down at his hands, mirroring his action, only to find the exact same scars. The kid was a vampire. He WAS Larten, just, a younger version.  
"I know what you are, Larten." I gulped, causing Toby to look even more intrigued. "We need to Talk?" I must have sounded more authoritative than i expected, because he nodded quickly. He took a step back.  
"What if I say no?" I hadn't thought about that, but This kid wasn't dumb. Instead of answering, i brought my hands back out and stretched my fingers, again showing him my finger tips. This was enough for him. He nodded again.  
"Please, Sir." He smiled warily "Come inside, have a pie. We'll talk when the shop closes." He walked back into the shop, willing for me to follow, with Toby yelling behind "Larten, Make sure he pays for that pie, Or Mrs Lovett'll have my head!. Ignoring Toby, I did follow, but with caution. I would just have to wait for now, and hopefully later get some answers. Later couldn't come soon enough.


End file.
